


Tell me your real name

by yourbucky221B



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Feelings, Fingering, First Time, For three lovely ladies, M/M, Romance, Unilock, Viclock is so important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-23
Updated: 2014-04-23
Packaged: 2018-01-20 11:21:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1508633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourbucky221B/pseuds/yourbucky221B
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little fic that is completely just about Victor and Sherlock, and their growing relationship.</p><p>For Jess, Tanya and Anna.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell me your real name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tyone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyone/gifts), [Swatlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Swatlock/gifts).



> Okay, so this is completely Jess's fault. She got us all hooked on Viclock and I think it's all I've pretty much posted on tumblr for the past five days. 
> 
> We've been writing headcanons for days and I said I'd write a little Viclock fic for them all because I love them.
> 
> So this is for the beautiful, wonderful people that are Jess, Tanya and Anna. Cause they really make tumblr a better place to blog <3

   A head of chestnut looking hair was all that could be seen over the pile of books which the young man carried. The head peeked around the side every now and then as it made its way through the dorm corridors, blue eyes nervous as the tower swayed every time he tried to look where he was going, until finally he backed up to one particular door, undecorated except for a single sign; _Do not disturb me!_

   He always chuckled when he saw that.

   Victor pushed open Sherlock’s door with a bit of effort, his arms full of both his textbooks and Sherlock’s. Library trip again. He wasn’t going to go until tomorrow but Sherlock had insisted that he needed these books now. Something to do with a latest experiment, research and having to complete some classwork which was about two weeks late. Sherlock hated doing the classwork and he made sure Victor knew it. Sometimes Victor just sat there with his brow raised as Sherlock whined about how dull it was. Victor would just comment on how it wasn’t going to get itself done.

   He didn’t make a sound as he walked in, dumping the books on the closest available surface before shaking his arms out; the weight of the books had been straining his muscles to their limit. He rolled his shoulders and then took in Sherlock’s motionless figure on the bed. Hands placed together under his chin, his eyes closed, his dark hair a complete mess of curls. Victor smirked and held back the urge to touch him. Like he always did. Well, most of the time.

   “If you’re going to keep staring at me, you can leave.”

   Victor didn’t flinch, he just waited as Sherlock’s eyes fluttered open, “Well, you looked gorgeous.”

   Sherlock sat up and cleared his throat, “Yes… well, y-you disturbed me. You know I don’t –”

   Victor crossed the room and pressed a chaste kiss to Sherlock’s lips, “Stop talking.”

   Victor watched as Sherlock’s cheeks reddened, smirking at how Sherlock was staring at his lips. He looked like that every time Victor kissed him. He’d looked like that when they’d first met too. After Sherlock had gotten over the fact Victor’s dog had bitten him – he must have shouted and cursed for a good five minutes before Victor could even get a word out – and Victor explained that his dog didn’t even have teeth, they headed for the nearest coffee shop. Sherlock was reluctant of course, but limped – dramatically – along with Victor’s help. Victor remembers Sherlock staring at him from across the table, his eyes focused on his lips.

   “I got those textbooks you wanted,” He moved away, heading back to the desk edge where the books were balanced, “Why you wanted a book on… ‘100 types of napkin folding’ I will never know.”

   Sherlock lay back down and stared at the ceiling, “I told you; research.” He huffed and then muttered, “Pass me the ‘Calculations in Chemistry’ book?”

   Victor rolled his eyes at Sherlock’s laziness but proceeded to play Jenga with the pile of books, sliding the needed book from the middle of the pile, careful not to let the rest of them fall. He whipped the textbook out and beamed at Sherlock who smirked just as the pile of books gave way and the top four slid towards the floor.

   “Shit!” Victor dived for the books, but ended up knocking a pile of paperwork off of the desk instead. He sat on the floor, books and paper around him as he heard Sherlock giggling on the bed behind him, “This is all your bloody fault!” He growled, shuffling the paper together.

   His eyes locked onto the top of a letter from the university then. It didn’t look out of the ordinary, just a letter confirming personal details of some kind, but it was the name printed in the contents of the letter which drew Victor’s attention.

 _William_ Sherlock _Scott Holmes_

   “I thought your name was Sherlock?” Victor announced surprised, turning to look at Sherlock from his crouch on the floor.

   Sherlock’s eyes widened and he jolted out of the bed, “Give that to me, now.”

   Victor hopped up and held the letter behind his back, “So, _William_?”

   Sherlock pursed his lips and levelled Victor with his gaze, “Don’t do this.”

   “Do what?” Victor smirked, blocking Sherlock with his body.

   A defeated sigh left Sherlock, “Tease me! I had enough of it at boarding school, let alone now, from you!”

   Victor let his arms fall to his side, “I’d never do that.” He was serious, completely.

   Sherlock looked at him like he wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, “Just give me the letter.” He held out his hand, his eyes not meeting Victor’s. He’d been teased and shunned for many things at boarding school, his full name just one of them.

   Victor handed it over without any fuss, then he watched as Sherlock folded it up and shoved it into the nearest drawer with such a force the desk shook slightly. Then he just stood there, his back to Victor while he breathed deeply.

   “I think it suits you.”

   Sherlock didn’t turn around, he just scoffed.

   “I mean it,” Victor pressed, “I really like it.”

   He moved forward, his arms sliding around Sherlock’s waist, his lips resting by his ear, “William Holmes.” He whispered softly.

   Sherlock shuddered and relaxed, his hands moving to rest on top of Victor’s, “You’re just saying that because you don’t like it when I’m upset with you.” He mumbled grumpily.

   Victor just laughed quietly, “I never like it when you’re upset with me, _William_.”

    “Say it again,” A pleading request. Sherlock pressed Victor’s hands tighter against him. Still not closer enough.

   Victor licked at the shell of Sherlock’s ear, “William…Sherlock… Scott…Holmes.”

   The whimper that came from Sherlock’s throat spurred Victor on and he grazed his teeth on his lobe, his tongue following it, his hands slipping from under Sherlock’s to rest over his crotch, “William…” His voice caressed Sherlock’s ears and made him feel dizzy.

   “Again.” Sherlock pleaded, his head rolling back onto Victor’s shoulder.

   Victor’s hands moved even lower as he palmed Sherlock’s crotch, his heel rubbing slowing down and up as Sherlock panted in his arms, “William…you’re gorgeous. Especially like this…”

   Sherlock mumbled something that sounded like a curse but didn’t move, he just let Victor touch him, caress him with his voice. He was so turned on it was unbelievable. He’d never ever felt like this before. Victor was the only one. The only one who had managed to spark any sort of interest in Sherlock’s body, and mind. He moved his hips in tiny motions against Victor’s hand, he could feel his erection growing in his jeans.

   Victor smirked into the skin on his neck, “You like that?”

   Sherlock nodded frantically, “Y-Yes. God, yes.”

   Another lick to Sherlock’s earlobe was obviously too much for him, because Sherlock spun around so quickly Victor barely had time to focus before Sherlock’s mouth was attached to his. Lips bit and pulled at each other, before Sherlock parted his lips and Victor’s tongue entered his mouth, exploring languidly. His hands shot around Sherlock’s body, underneath his t-shirt, his nails scratching lightly up his back. He couldn’t get enough of him. This absolute genius, who had been avoided by so many, who had been hurt by teasing nicknames and insults, was willing to let him into his little world. He was willing to trust him.

   Sherlock tangled his fingers into the short curls of Victor’s hair, soldering their mouths together. He didn’t want to let go. Ever.

   A press of bodies was all the incentive Victor needed to guide Sherlock over to the bed, lips moving frantically against each other’s, small moans, whimpers and pants of breath escaping in the short space of time when their lips parted to then slide together again. Sherlock gripped Victor’s hair harder, eliciting a moan from Victor’s mouth. Sherlock smirked shyly against his lips, his tongue moving to explore the other’s mouth. Victor could hardly believe how forward Sherlock was being, they’d never been so desperate before. It had always been slow, soft, delicate. But the way Sherlock’s tongue moved in his mouth, his hands in his hair. It was aggressive and needy. It was beautiful.

   They fell gracelessly onto the bed, Sherlock already pawing at Victor’s shirt, whimpering, his legs wrapping around Victor’s waist to pull him closer. Victor hissed as their hips made contact, squeezing his eyes shut to admire how responsive his body was. Sherlock was already rock hard and Victor was well on his way to being in the same state.

   “Fuck, Victor…Mmph…” Sherlock thrusted his hips up into Victor’s, making tiny little circular motions which were sending jolts of pleasure right up Victor’s spine.

   Victor’s eyes fluttered at the sensation then he pulled away from Sherlock’s mouth, diving down to his neck, suckling and biting the delicate skin there, marking him, “You…” A breathless whisper against skin, “are going to make me come in my pants in a minute.

   Sherlock was rutting up into him in small needy motions, “Oh, please…I need… more. I need more.” His eyes were closed, head thrown back, fingers clutching and tearing at Victor’s shirt. He was so far gone. All he could concentrate on was the pleasure. It was building so slowly. He wanted it. He wanted this so badly.

   “Shh, William…” Victor whispered, biting his neck, “I got you.”

   “Oh… Oh fuck…” A shiver broke out and his whole body felt like it was melting, “Fuck me, Victor. Please… Please, oh please.”

   Victor’s hands turned to fists at the tiny breathless pleads that were just falling from Sherlock’s mouth. He had to hold it together or else he’d end up tearing Sherlock’s clothes off that very second. He moved his body away a fraction, which was difficult with Sherlock’s legs wrapped around him, but he managed.

   “We need to stop before we do something we regret,” He panted into Sherlock’s neck. He felt Sherlock’s hands move from his back to land heavily on the bed.

   “You don’t want to… do you?” Sherlock swallowed back the lump in his throat. Burning eyes were not a good sign. He knew this would happen. He just knew it. This stung more than he thought. He’d never been good at dealing with rejection.

   Victor moved back even further to look Sherlock in the eyes, only to find Sherlock’s shut tight, like he was in in pain. Victor felt his chest tighten at the sight, “Hey… hey, look at me. Look at me, Sherlock.”

   Those pale eyes made themselves known but they held a sadness which Victor hadn’t been expecting. Victor maneuvered his hands to cup Sherlock’s face, his thumb stroking his cheek gently. Victor tried to remember when he hadn’t felt so strongly about this man. But he came up blank. Sherlock Holmes was one person that was unbelievably important to him, which was why he needed to do this right.

   “Sherlock, I do want to do this,” He took a deep breath, “I just want you to be sure. Sure, that this is what you want. Do you understand?”

   “Why are you addressing me as if I’m one of your previous partners who were dull and idiotic?”

   Victor cracked a smile and kissed Sherlock softly, just the once, “Straight answers, please.”

   Sherlock smirked but it was soon replaced with an certainty, a shyness in his eyes, “I’m sure, I want this. I want you. I want you to… to fuck me.”

   Victor was a little winded by that, in a well-that-was-unexpected-but-God-that-turned-me-on type of way. Victor cleared his throat and then nodded quickly, answering Sherlock and reassuring himself that this would be fine. It would be perfect. He would make it perfect for Sherlock.

   Sherlock lifted up to touch his lips gently against Victor’s before they were devouring each other again, this time with clothes being shed at a rapid pace, hands clawing, clutching, tearing, shoving, trying to get to skin. Trying to touch and caress, clutch and hold. Skin touching skin was all that mattered now. Sherlock was drowning. He was dizzy. His mind was hazy. He couldn’t think. If someone asked him what experiment he’d been contemplating on ten minutes ago he would come up blank. Victor had effectively wiped his brain of all its functions. He just wanted skin. He wanted pleasure. Victor. He wanted Victor. He wanted to climb inside of him and never move. He wanted to be a part of him. He’d never felt so overwhelmed before. Never felt so deeply. It was dangerous territory. He knew it. But he couldn’t stop himself. He was too far gone.

   Victor’s tongue dipped into Sherlock’s with a hunger, consuming every last inch of him that he could get a hold of. Sherlock answered with just as much force, desperate to get closer, to feel more and yet keep feeling. Lips smashed against each other and they were battling, battling with their bodies and their shared desire to feel. Feel their way through each other’s skin.

   Victor’s hands touched the hem of Sherlock’s boxers and jolted him out of his haze. This was really happening, the thought made him flustered and Sherlock didn’t know whether to tell him to stop, or tell him to move that one last barrier between them. Sherlock suddenly realised that this was his first time. He had no previous experience. No data to look back on to reach a conclusion. No sort of knowledge of what it would be like at all. Suddenly, Sherlock realised he had no idea what he was doing.

   Victor pulled his lips away from the pair which had been so responsive just a second ago, and looked at the terrified expression on Sherlock’s face, “You’re freaking out, aren’t you?”

   A small nod was all that Sherlock could manage, eyes wide and completely open to Victor’s gaze. He tried to open his mouth, tried to find words but nothing came out.

   “You can still back out, if not ready, I’ll understand,” Victor moved a hand to his cheek again, “I don’t want to hurt you, William.”

   Sherlock cleared his throat softly, “I like it when you call me ‘William’.”

   A soft smile spread across Victor’s face, “I know you do, that’s why I’m trying to keep it up.”

   A huff of a laugh broke from Sherlock’s mouth and he beamed up at Victor before nodding his head, “Take them off.”

   Victor forgot that his hand was still on the edge of Sherlock’s boxers and it took him a second to realise what was going on. Then he slide the fabric down, tugging it a little harder as it got caught under Sherlock, he tapped Sherlock’s side and he lifted so Victor could pull them all the way off, letting Sherlock kick them away. They never broke eye contact, so much was passed between them in that moment, every doubt, every thought, every desire. Until, it was all too much and Victor lowered his body on top of Sherlock’s, seeing the little gasp and moan fall from his mouth as skin touched skin. Then Sherlock was pleading, his hands seeking refuge in Victor’s hair, pulling his head down so he could seal their lips together. Hips pushing into the others faintly, cocks touching. This time it wasn’t rushed or needy, but it still held all of their mutual desire, their want of the other. It was searing. It was unbearable.

   Victor broke away with a groan but then began to slide down Sherlock’s body, kissing and licking his way down his chest, a swipe of a tongue over a nipple before he nuzzled his stomach, and then Victor was biting Sherlock’s hipbone, and doing what Sherlock thought, had to be illegal things with his tongue and mouth. Sherlock was squirming, moaning into the air, his head thrown back, eyes heavy with pleasure, hands clutching in Victor’s hair as he finally made his way to his crotch.

   Victor bit down on Sherlock’s inner thigh, hooking one leg over his shoulder for leverage before he lifted his head to meet Sherlock’s eyes, “I’m going to make you feel good, just relax.”

   Sherlock nodded, and tried to relax but his mind was spinning, Victor was so close to his cock, all he could think about was how he’d never imagined ever being this close to someone. He’d never thought anyone would ever want him. Then there was Victor, mouth so close to his erection that he could feel his breath on his skin and he shuddered at the feeling.

   Victor rubbed a hand up Sherlock’s thigh and gave it another quick kiss before pressing his lips ever so delicately to the tip of his cock.

   “Oh!”

   Victor pulled away and chuckled, peeking up at Sherlock who was panting heavily, one hand in his hair, the other reaching for Victor’s, “Again, again, again, again.” He pleaded with a groan.

   So Victor dropped his head and did the same again, just a press of lips against the tip, his hand moving to wrap softly around the base, just enough pressure to steady it. Then he poked his tongue out and swirled it tantalisingly around the tip, listening to how Sherlock’s breath hitched and a small whimper and moan left that beautiful mouth. He was already rock hard, he was going to be aching by the time he was done with Sherlock.

   He suckled his cock lightly, feeling Sherlock’s hand find his hair finally, and thread his fingers into it. He groaned as Sherlock tugged lightly and Sherlock gasped as the vibrations went straight through his cock. It was too much. He was fighting to stay in control, to last a little bit longer.

   Victor took the head into his mouth then, using his tongue to massage the underside before adjusting his grip on the shaft. He moved it lightly up and down, tongue rubbing against the glans, eliciting tiny erotic moans from Sherlock. He took more of Sherlock’s cock into his mouth, moving up and down on it slightly, hand still moving up the shaft as his tongue circled and caressed and coaxed Sherlock closer and closer to the edge.

   Sherlock was being blinded, it was too much, it was building and building and he couldn’t control it. Then his cock hit the roof of Victor’s mouth and he couldn’t take it, the arresting pleasure. He pulled away quickly, pushing Victor’s head away, panting, “I can’t, I can’t…God, too much. It was too much.”

   Victor narrowly avoided being kicked in the face but let Sherlock move away with a pleased smile, “Too close?” He asked, heaving himself up over Sherlock’s body, his mouth on his stomach again, sloppy kisses trailing up and down.

   Sherlock squeezed his eyes tight and tried to even his breathing. He nodded quickly, one hand back in Victor’s hair, the other still tangled in his own curls.

   Victor heaved himself off of Sherlock, forcing Sherlock to let go of his hair and reached over the side for his bag, his hand rummaging around until… “Got it!”

   Victor got back onto the bed properly and grabbed Sherlock’s hand, placing the condom and lube bottle into it. Sherlock’s hand closed around them precariously, his eyes opening to stare down at Victor with some apprehension. Then he admitted, “I have no idea what to do with this.”

   Sherlock received a chaste kiss before the lube was taken from his hand, “How do you want to do this?”

   Victor saw Sherlock shrug, his cheeks turning red, “You decide. Anything. I just want you to… fuck me.”

   The little pause was timed with more reddening of Sherlock’s cheeks which Victor smiled adoringly at. Then he nodded and shuffled down his body again, hitching one leg over his shoulder, before spreading the other wide, “This is going to feel weird, “ He warned, popping the cap of the lube and squirting a large amount into his hand.

   Sherlock steeled himself, he knew this part would be the worst, but after this, it would feel good. It had to. Everything with Victor was perfect. Sherlock gritted his teeth. He hated how much he trusted Victor. Hated how much he relied on Victor for so many things, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

   He relaxed his shoulders and then felt a cold finger rubbing delicately at his arsehole, working the tight ring of muscle. He clenched his fists in pleasure. It felt weird but it was a good weird. He liked it. Victor circled his finger around the hole, massaging, taking in Sherlock’s reactions as he hummed and spread his legs wider.

   “That’s it…just relax.” Victor encouraged, his spare hand moving up to splay on Sherlock’s stomach, holding him still as he felt Sherlock start to rock against his finger.

   He whimpered, “Please, Vic. Just… more.”

   Victor didn’t need to hear much more, he pushed his finger lightly against the hole and then watched as it slid right in, the ring of muscle giving way a little. Sherlock let out a broken whimper, “I-I… it feels… I don’t know whether I like it.”

   Victor kissed his thigh, “Are you okay?”

   A reassuring nod was all Victor needed to push his finger in a little further, feeling the muscle flutter around it as Sherlock bit his lip lightly. He was gentle and didn’t push too far in, just rocking his finger in and out slightly, letting Sherlock adjust to the feeling of having something intrude his body.

   That’s exactly what it felt like. Sherlock felt odd, having something pressed into a part of his body that had been previously untouched. He focused on his breathing and Victor’s finger, wanting to ask for more but not knowing if he could take more. It was a little overwhelming.

   Victor pushed a little further in and without realising it just passed over Sherlock’s prostate.

   “Oh, my god. Again. Do that again.” Sherlock arched up and almost sobbed as that spark of pleasure rattled through him.

   With an amused smile Victor moved his finger further in. Then he moved it softly over the area again, causing Sherlock to moan loudly, the hand that wasn’t in his hair turning into a fist, his knuckles white.

   “Think you could handle two fingers yet?” Victor wondered, sliding his finger in and out with a little more force now, making sure to just glance over his prostate as he did so.

   Sherlock was writhing on the bed, hand clutched in hair, the other fisting the sheet underneath him, panting wildly, “Please…” was all that came from his mouth.

   Victor pulled his finger out quickly, a little too quickly for Sherlock’s liking, who groaned loudly at the sudden emptiness he felt. Victor slathered lube over another finger and then slid them slowly back into Sherlock. Sherlock hissed a little at the extra stretch and bit the inside of his cheek.

   “Sorry, Will,” Victor murmured, kissing Sherlock’s thigh again. He berated himself for being so careless, easing his fingers out slightly before gradually pushing them back in.

   Sherlock bit his lip hard. _God, this hurt now_. Not a stinging pain, just a discomfort. He really felt stretched this time. But then he felt Victor touch his prostate and he moaned in pleasure. It didn’t feel so bad when he was doing _that_ as well.

   Victor kept up a torturous pace, sliding his fingers in and out, only just stroking that bundle of nerves every time, enough to get Sherlock panting and wriggling on the bed. Enough to make him forget the discomfort of having two fingers in his arse. Victor took his time, he didn’t want to rush any of this, he wasn’t going to cut any corners. No stone unturned and all of that. He didn’t want to hurt Sherlock.

   Sherlock felt Victor poke rather brusquely at his prostate at one point and he couldn’t take it anymore, “Vic…Victor… please. Just fuck me. I’m ready. Please.” He was pleading, he was begging but he didn’t care. He needed more and Victor’s fingers weren’t enough.

   Victor looked up and met Sherlock’s eyes, he could see the desire, the need there. Victor nodded slowly and pulled his fingers out, reaching for the condom that was next to Sherlock. Sherlock followed his hand and watched, frozen, as Victor ripped the packet open and rolled the condom onto his hard cock. Sherlock wanted this. He wanted Victor. He was still apprehensive about it all, whether this would work, but he wanted to try. He wanted to try to have Victor in this way too. He wanted to have this part of him just like all of Victor’s previous partners had. Sherlock reached his hand out to Victor who smiled tenderly at him, taking his hand and threading their fingers.

   “God,” Victor exhaled, “You don’t know how beautiful you look right now.”

   Sherlock’s chest ached and his throat caught as he looked up at Victor’s flushed face, his short curls falling over his face, blue eyes half closed as he stared back at Sherlock. The expression on Victor’s face was too much for Sherlock to comprehend. It was overwhelming, completely crushing. He was looking at him like he _loved_ him.

   “Victor…” Sherlock managed, tugging on his hand.

   Victor understood. He grabbed the lube and slathered his cock in it, coating it as much as possible before using any left on his hand to use on Sherlock’s hole. Sherlock squirmed slightly when Victor added even more lube,  who winked at him and murmured, “Can never use too much,”

   Then he bent down over Sherlock, hitching one of Sherlock’s legs up over his shoulder, sliding a hand up to the ankle before turning his head to kiss the inside of Sherlock’s knee. Sherlock exhaled shakily and gripped Victor’s hand harder. Victor settled between Sherlock’s legs, pushing his and Sherlock’s entwined hands to the bed before he gripped his cock with the other and guided it to Sherlock’s arse.

   Victor looked up and met Sherlock’s eyes, “Ready?”

   He caressed Sherlock’s hand with his fingers, telling him with his eyes that everything was going to be okay, that he was right here, that he’d stop if Sherlock told him to. A clear nod and an unbreakable gaze was everything Victor needed to push forward.

   His cock stretched Sherlock’s hole to a point of pure discomfort, causing his teeth to grind together and his heart to beat faster. Victor couldn’t look, he just concentrated on taking it slowly, desperately not wanting to hurt him. Sherlock was breathing heavily, breathing out through his clenched teeth, his jaw tense. Victor moved his hand up Sherlock’s leg, stroking it tenderly, trying to relax him. Then Victor eased forward enough for just the tip of his cock to slide in, past that tight ring of muscle, and at that moment Victor was grateful for the amount of lube he’d used.

   Sherlock gasped quietly, but it was coupled with a painful squeeze to Victor’s hand. Victor held back how good it felt for him and focused on making this better for Sherlock. He turned his head and kissed Sherlock’s knee, licking it languorously, scraping his teeth gently against the skin, feeling Sherlock shudder in response. He kept that up, kissing in that same area until Sherlock relaxed his grip on Victor’s hand and then gave it a quick squeeze. Telling Victor he could move again.

    Sherlock tried to relax his body as he felt Victor move to push further in again, he closed his eyes and focused on Victor’s hand in his. He breathed through it all, trying to resist tensing up as Victor’s cock stretched his hole wider as he slid in even more. Sherlock wanted this. He wanted this so badly. He wanted Victor.

   “Ah, fuck…”Victor hissed quietly, leaning his face against Sherlock’s leg as he felt Sherlock’s hole stretch to fit him. The pulsing pleasure in his cock was not something he could act on, no matter how good it felt. He bent down even further, and brushed his lips against Sherlock’s, his stomach just about grazing Sherlock’s erection.

   Sherlock kissed Victor back slowly, lips touching softly, no sort of rush between them. Just delicate, affectionate kisses. One’s that made Sherlock’s chest constrict uncomfortably and made his throat tight.

   Victor used Sherlock’s distraction to inch forward, pushing his cock into Sherlock a little more, keeping up the kisses to reassure Sherlock, even as he gasped a little into Victor’s mouth. Victor gripped Sherlock’s hand and played with his fingers, caressing them and tracing patterns around them, anything to make Sherlock more comfortable.

   “This okay?” He whispered against his mouth, placing a wet kiss against Sherlock’s lips again.

   Sherlock didn’t trust his voice so instead nodded steadily, reciprocating the soft kisses. He moved his free hand to tangle in Victor’s hair, pulling him closer. This thing that was bubbling up in his chest as he held Victor to him was torturous. It was choking him. Drowning him. There was nothing he could do but feel and he hated it. Feelings. Emotions. But Victor didn’t treat him like the rest. Didn’t call him a freak because he thought emotions were a weakness. He accepted Sherlock for who he was and that was all he could have asked for.

   Sherlock spread his legs a little wider, slowly hooking left leg over Victor, nudging him forward, telling him he could push that last inch into him. Victor didn’t need telling twice, he pressed his lips hard to Sherlock’s and pressed into him, his hips coming almost flush with Sherlock’s arse.

   Sherlock groaned against his mouth, the grip on his hair and hand hardened and the leg around him dropped away. He was breathing heavily again but neither of them were focused on that. Victor couldn’t believe that he was inside Sherlock. Warm and soft and exquisite. Victor squeezed his eyes shut, taking deep breaths to control himself. It felt amazing. All the way inside. Completely surrounded by Sherlock.

   Sherlock was having similar revelations. His eyes were wide compared to Victor’s. He was lost. Completely lost in what was going on. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Victor was inside him. Sherlock’s mind was blank. Victor had effectively managed to clear it. No nagging deductions. No whirring analysis of the room or anything to do with any sort of knowledge he had up there.

   Victor waited for Sherlock to adjust, his one hand moving to stroke Sherlock’s hair, while the other held his hand firmly. Their breaths mingled in the small space and Victor moved to kiss Sherlock again, lips caressing, tongues stroking.

   Then Sherlock moved back a little and whispered, “Move…please.”

   Victor looked over his face, reading for any sort of hesitation in his request before he nodded and kissed  Sherlock softly again. Then he started to pull out, Sherlock gasping as he did, before pushing slowly back in with a soft grunt. God, he was not going to last at all. He started moving then, slowly, gently, never pulling all the way out and never pushing too far in. Just his cock rocking in and out of Sherlock’s arse, prompting tiny gasps from Sherlock and soft groans from himself.

   Sherlock was clutching at Victor’s arm as he breathed through the slide of Victor’s cock inside of him. It didn’t feel bad. It just didn’t feel great. He wanted this to feel good and he knew that Victor was doing everything to make this good for him, he could tell from the adoring look on his face as Victor moved above him. Those blue eyes told Sherlock all he needed.

   Victor pushed in a little much then, and jerked back in apology, but Sherlock just moaned loudly, “Oh! Yes…”

 _Thank God,_ Victor thought as he kissed Sherlock’s lips lightly, only to have Sherlock hold his face closer, his lips insistent now. He moved his cock in and out again, pushing further in like before and was rewarded with the same broken moan from Sherlock’s mouth. He squeezed a hand in between their bodies and wrapped it around Sherlock’s cock, stroking it back to its previous state of arousal. Sherlock moaned again, and let go of Victor’s hand to wrap it around his shoulders, pulling him closer as Victor worked his hand up Sherlock’s shaft.

   Victor felt Sherlock clench around his cock and he groaned loudly, thrusting into Sherlock with more force than before, but he found the right angle and hit Sherlock’s prostate in the process. Another loud moan, followed by a breathy groan found its way out of Sherlock’s throat and Victor suddenly couldn’t stop himself from doing it again, his hand working Sherlock in between them.  

   “That’s it… Oh, God…Victor…” Sherlock groaned, his hips tilting up to Victor’s thrusts which were gaining in pace.

   Victor was panting now, wildly as he thrusted in time with his hand on Sherlock’s cock, “I’m not hurting you am I?” He managed, breathing fast.

   A frantic shake of a head was all he got, and it was more than enough to fuel him. Victor could feel it building, that blinding pleasure. Sherlock was so hot and soft and warm in his arms that he couldn’t take it all in. He tried to slow down, but he was chasing that build now. He could hear Sherlock moaning, moaning his name again and again. God, he was so loud. Did he even know how loud he was?

   “More… Victor… more…”

   “That’s it. Jesus, Sherlock.”

   “Oh, oh, God…”

   Sherlock held onto Victor for his life his orgasm building rapidly with Victor’s hand on his cock and Victor’s cock just probing his prostate every now and then. But it was enough, it was more than enough to get Sherlock to the point of no return. He could feel it. He was panting, moaning and he didn’t care. God, he really didn’t care.

   “Victor… I’m-I…I’m not-”

   “Me too. Me too.” Victor groaned in response, moving his thumb over the head of Sherlock’s cock, determined to get Sherlock through this first.

   And he did.

   Sherlock felt it in his toes, bursting up through his legs and up his spine. He saw nothing but white hot bliss has he moaned as loud as he could into the room. He didn’t know what was happening, he just kept trying to chase it. He thrust his cock up into Victor’s fist, his head thrown back and then felt something hot and wet hit his stomach.

   Victor kept stroking Sherlock’s cock, his face buried in Sherlock’s neck as he continued to thrust in him. He couldn’t take it much longer, he grabbed Sherlock’s hips and started pounding into him, his moans muffled by Sherlock’s skin. Sherlock held Victor to him, his mind hazy as Victor groaned loudly, stilled inside him and bit down hard on his neck.

   “Oh, God, that was…”

   “Amazing.” Sherlock breathed, panting heavily, mind still fuzzy with his recent orgasm.

   Victor chuckled slightly and slumped on top of Sherlock, shifting slightly so Sherlock could move his leg from Victor’s shoulder.

   Sherlock winced as it fell to the bed but didn’t move to stretch it, “Victor…”

   “Hmm?”

   “When can we do that again?”

   Victor chuckled louder that time and shifted to move out of Sherlock. He peeled the condom off slowly, hissing slightly as he did, and dumped it in the bin by the bed before lying on top of Sherlock again. He wrapped his arms around him, and tucked his head under his chin, “When you’ve recovered from this.” Was his reply.

   Sherlock made a non-committal sound and slumped further into the bed. He looked up at the ceiling and couldn’t wipe the lazy smile off his face.

  

   “William?”

 

    Sherlock’s smile grew, “Yes?”

 

   “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

   

   Sherlock just held Victor tighter.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Hope it wasn't too bad.
> 
> Little confession.
> 
> Never written smut before.
> 
> So I hope you enjoyed it!


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